Chapter 9
At that moment, I clearly saw the scrutiny and displeasure in his eyes crack like a glass skyscraper hit by an earthquake, instantly covered with countless fractures, then collapsing with a thunderous crash.
Shattering into disbelief and shock, as if he'd witnessed the most impossible, absurd scene imaginable.
His pupils contracted violently in that instant.
Our eyes met.
The hallway light was dim, falling into his deep eyes but reflecting no warmth whatsoever—only the cold desolation I had personally shattered.
I stood there, not dodging, not afraid, even lifting my chin slightly to meet his shocked gaze, the mocking curve at the corner of my mouth becoming even clearer.
'James, didn't expect this, did you? The top computer expert you've been desperately searching for, offering big money to hire. Right now, standing in front of you. Wearing this face that belongs to "Sophia"—the one you look down on the most.' I thought.
The shock in his eyes lasted only a brief moment, so quick I almost thought it was an illusion.
Then, his eyes quickly froze over with an even thicker layer of ice, carrying the sharp coldness of someone who'd been offended.
"What are you doing here?"
His voice was low and controlled, filled with unquestionable interrogation, each word like ice pellets hitting the ground.
He seemed to remember something and spoke again. "Are you following me?"
I almost laughed out loud again at his amazing self-importance.
Before I could speak, Amelia emerged from behind him like a startled bird, gently tugging at his sleeve. Her voice was soft and weak, yet every word carried clearly through the hallway. "James, don't be angry. Sophia probably just cares about you too much; that's why she came here. After all, she is your wife—it's understandable that she'd be concerned about where you are."
As she spoke, she glanced at me with a look mixing helplessness and sympathy, as if explaining on my behalf.
She really was something.
In the past, hearing such slanderous speculation, I probably would have been anxious and angry, rushing to explain, only making things worse, and finally falling apart under his cold stare.
But today, I just stood there quietly, watching one coldly interrogate and the other stir up trouble. I couldn't even be bothered to feel the slightest ripple in my heart.
Only after Amelia finished did I slowly lift my eyelids, my gaze skipping right over her to land on James's frost-covered face.
The corner of my mouth curved into a faint but deeply sarcastic smile.
"Mr. Smith," I spoke, my voice so calm it had no fluctuation, yet like a fine needle, precisely puncturing the low-pressure atmosphere he'd created. "Do you think the whole world revolves around you? That wherever you appear, everyone else must be there for you?"
James's brows furrowed sharply, clearly not expecting me to speak to him in this tone, using this form of address.
I ignored the storm rising in his eyes and continued to twist the knife slowly, my gaze filled with undisguised mockery.
"I'm here for my own business. As for following you? Mr. Smith, have you forgotten that we'll soon have nothing to do with each other? Is someone who's about to become my ex-husband worth wasting my time and energy on?"
"Sophia!" He cut me off sharply, his jawline tensed tight, his eyes looking like they wanted to tear me apart.
Behind him, Amelia's fake vulnerability almost cracked, a flash of surprise and doubt crossing her face.
"Do you have any other instructions?" I raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze fearlessly.
"If not, I won't disturb Mr. Smith and Ms. Martinez from discussing your 'important matters.'"
With that, I didn't give them any time to react. I turned around decisively, my heels clicking on the floor with clear, firm sounds—each step like crushing the weakness and tolerance of the past.
I didn't look back, but I could clearly feel that cold, piercing gaze behind me, almost burning two holes in my back.
I didn't leave the building. Instead, I went straight to the surveillance room.
On the huge screen, divided into several frames, the most important one showed the real-time surveillance of that conference room.
Andrew handed me a glass of warm water, looking at me with some concern. "Sophia, are you okay?"
"I'm fine." I took the glass, but my eyes remained locked on the screen. "Never been better."
On the screen, James and Amelia had returned to the conference room.
James sat in the main seat, his expression calm, his fingers unconsciously tapping the table—a sign his patience was wearing thin.
Amelia sat beside him, occasionally saying something in a low voice, probably trying to comfort him or continuing to speculate about why "ZeroSpecter" was late.
Time passed minute by minute.
I could see the furrows between James's brows growing deeper, and his tapping on the table becoming more frequent.
He occasionally raised his hand to check his watch, the movement revealing irritation that could be felt even through the screen.
The smile on Amelia's face was becoming more and more forced, her eyes beginning to show unease.
They were waiting for "ZeroSpecter."
Waiting for that top computer expert they revered like a god, who they believed could solve all their problems.
And I, the wife James saw as scheming and worthless, was leisurely sitting in front of the surveillance screen, enjoying their anxiety like ants on a hot pan.
A cold smile, filled with the satisfaction of revenge, finally bloomed uncontrollably from my lips.
"Andrew." I swirled the water in my glass, my tone light but with the calm of someone in complete control. "Tell the Smith Group that ZeroSpecter has some urgent matters to handle and might contact them later. Also, hint that ZeroSpecter's schedule is very full, and the quote may need to be reassessed."
Andrew immediately understood my intention, a flash of surprise in his eyes that quickly turned to understanding and support. "I get it. Raise the price. For this system, James will definitely agree."
"Exactly." I took a sip of water, my eyes sharp.
"He can't afford to wait, and he can't afford to lose. In his mind, this system is crucial to the Smith Group's future for the next ten years—more important than anything." I paused, my voice taking on a cold, playful tone. "Since I can still use this method to earn enough living expenses for my child from him before the divorce, why not?"
Andrew nodded and immediately went to arrange it.
On the surveillance screen, James took a phone call, obviously from the person Andrew had arranged to communicate with.
I watched his expression darken at a visible rate, his brows locked tight. He said a few words into the phone and finally nodded very reluctantly.
He compromised.
For "ZeroSpecter," someone he didn't even know, he was forced to raise the price.
He wasn't incapable of compromise—it was just that even for a stranger, he could never do it for me.
Just then, my personal phone in my pocket vibrated very slightly.
I took it out and swiped the screen.
It was an extremely discreet communication app specifically for contacting people under the "ZeroSpecter" identity.
At that moment, a new friend request appeared there.
The tone of the friend verification message was pleading, even somewhat humble.